


She's Got to be Illegal

by arthoetchalla



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: F/M, idk about this man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 11:41:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2731136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthoetchalla/pseuds/arthoetchalla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long lines in the cafe, bringing a girl home for the first time, sneaky seventy year old women - all the normal problems of Tadashi's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She's Got to be Illegal

"I'll be back soon," I say.  
"Not soon enough," Honey replies, pecking my cheek.  
I leave her in my room to her own devices. Hiro is at school, and Aunt Cass has demanded that I assist her downstairs, despite my protestations concerning the blonde now waiting patiently for me in my room. As I enter the kitchen, having put my apron on in approximately one millisecond during my descent down the stairs (I've gotten adept at tying the strings over the years) I dash over to the countertop to begin dwindling down the stack of orders which have piled themselves high. One by one, each customer leaves, a bit miffed from the wait but satisfied overall - I've offered free cookies to placate them as per Cass's request. My hands and fingers fly between the counter and espresso machine, steam billowing from my work, thinking not of the infinite line before me but of Honey and what's waiting for _me_ at the end of this line. Finally, the last customer toddles in kitten heels up to the counter, a green dress hugging her lanky frame, fire-engine red lipstick smeared on her lips. I recoil immediately.  
"Mrs. Matsuda," I say. I hope that my face doesn't betray my apprehension.  
She smiles, and I notice that she's managed to cover her teeth with red gunk as well. Most would think of septogenarian women as kindly and sweet, but Mrs. Matsuda has taken on a character of her own - she's loud, tenacious, messy, histrionic, and sometimes downright mean, with a penchant for coming upstairs to our apartment and a tendency to refer to me with condescending pet names.  
She speaks. "Getting in the Christmas spirit, are we little guy?" she says, pointing to my face. "But, I don't see any mistletoe around!"  
I tilt my head, perplexed by her laughter until my hand finds its way to my face, and I feel a sticky spot. My head snaps to the left, toward a silver candy jar that catches my reflection nicely.  
Oh no.  
All this time, I've been taking orders with a bright pink lipstick mark on my cheek. Honey's lips are outlined so beautifully on my face, I almost don't want to rub it off, but for the sake of salvaging what's left of my pride, I swipe my hand across the mark. Mrs. Matsuda cackles even louder.  
"Oh, look at you! You've got a girl now! I want to see this girl, is she ugly? She'd better not be ugly or I might just have to show you what a real woman is! You know, my granddaughter is very available, and I can assure you that she's worth your time. She got her sexiness, obviously, from myself. She's my mirror image! "  
I vomit a little.  
"Mrs. Matsuda," I say through clenched teeth, "What can I get for you today?"  
She waves me off. "Oh no dear, I just wanted to come ask who that broad was that walked in with you."  
Unbelieveable!  
I'm this close to commiting old-lady-cide when she slams her hands down on the table, eyes wide. "JOSEPH!" she screams. Her voice thunders through the cafe, several patrons nearly breaking their necks to stare at the crazy old woman. The cook, Joseph, who has the unfortunate fate of being desired by Mrs. Matsuda, turns to look from the kitchen as she continues her yelling fit. "I KNOW YOU SEE ME JOSEPH! HAVE YOU BEEN WORKING OUT? UGH, LET ME COME SEE YOU YOU SEXY MOTHERF -"  
"MRS. MATSUDA!" I interject. She makes a fake pouting face at me, and turns on her heels with a flip of her thin, heavily dyed wig. I think I hear her mutter something about me ruining all her fun.  
Bone tired and embarassed, I throw my apron off, not even bothering to put it back into its proper place on its hook. Climbing the stairs, I catch a hurried "Thank you!" from Aunt Cass who is chatting with one of the regulars, and I wave in return. Good riddance.  
Soon, I'm at my door. It's closed and the stickers covering the outside now seem unfamiliar, almost as unfamiliar as what I'm about to walk into - Honey. In my room. It's new, and I'm thinking that it will undoubtedly be awkward, mostly stemming from myself. I run my fingers through my hair, sighing through an open mouth, and look up at the lucky cat clock on the hallway wall. 1:20. Hiro will be home in about an hour and a half, and if I want any time with Honey, it will have to be now, so I place my hand on the knob, surprised to find my grip unsteady and weak. As I push my way in, I expect to find Honey at sitting at my computer, or perhaps taking selfies with her phone, or maybe even reading my books, but she's doing something I never thought she'd be doing.  
She's trying on my clothes.  
In her bra.  
Let me clarify - she's laying on my bed, wearing nothing but her bra, my sweater, and my cap, which she has over her face. Her right thigh lies uncovered by the sheet, and from my point of view, it appears as if she's wearing no underwear.  
God.  
She lifts the cap just enough to look at me with a devilish grin hanging on her lips. "I got bored," she says. "So I though I'd give you a nice surprise when you come back."  
I nod. Were her legs always this long? Or does the fact that they're in my bed make them look even longer and sexier? As if she's reading my mind, she bends the leg that's partly uncovered and reveals much more than my imagination could even conjure. My breathing quickens, and my mouth hangs. Honey laughs, and the sound, tinkling like bells in my ear, forces me out of my stupor. I smile, ready to play this game.  
She bites her lip as I move closer. "You know," I say, "You left a lipstick stain on my cheek earlier."  
"Leaving my mark."  
I'm at the edge of the bed now. "I think I'll return the favor."  
Bending over the bed, I position myself over her, with my arms on both sides on her head. She lifts her leg, wrapping it around my waist and using it to pull me closer - it's a bold move, and I'm beginning to wonder is she always this daring when she's turned on. I'm pretty much answered when she leans up to whisper in my ear -  
"Fuck me."  
I look down at her blushing face. "Well, I was going for a kiss on the neck with a little tongue, maybe a scrape of teeth - but, I can tell that you have other plans, so I'll oblige." I cup her breast, pinching her nipple through her bra and watch as her body responds, eyes closing, mouth opening, back arching. My own pants have gotten tight, and I'm nothing but a mold of anticipation and electric senses.  
"This'll definitely be a lot of fun."

* * *

  
I glance at the digital clock on my nightstand, right beside Honey's glasses - the bright red numbers show 2:21. Honey lies contentedly beside me, her thin arms wrapped around my torso, breathing softly in her sleep. Her hair's a bird's nest with light from the window shining through it, blond strands travelling in a million different directions all at once, clashing into each other at times, creating the perfect glowing chaos. I love it - the sight of her mussed up sex hair fills me with a strange sort of pride knowing that I'm the reason it's in its current state. Her body curls around me, and for the thousandth time that hour, I'm filled with desire for her, desire that I need to quench. Well, I have to wake her up anyway. I dip under the covers.  
Minutes later, my head is between her thighs and her hand is in my hair and we're both in ecstasy. I lap away, feverish in my concentration and devotion to Honey, noticing and acknowledging nothing else. The gasps coming from her lips are the only thing I take heed of, not even the sound of the screen door opening, or the feeling of Honey wriggling away from me. No, I, foolish in my endeavors, only hold Honey down and ignore everything until I hear a familiar cackle.  
Fuck.  
"I knew she was hot, but I didn't know you were too!" Mrs. Matsuda is standing in my room. Why the fuck is she in my room? WHAT IS GOING ON?  
"Your aunt invited me in for dinner, she's so sweet. I wanted to come and check on my favorite little Casanova, but I see you're busy!" She's nearly doubled over from laughing, and Honey's doe eyed, covering up with the sheets. "You were so intense - she must've been really good! How did it taste little man? Did she eat some fruit? Oh, I remember when men used to eat me out like that, it was amazing little man! In fact, ex-husband used to love the taste of my p -"  
"GO AWAY!" I yell before she can elaborate on that point.  
"I HOPE YOU DID IT RIGHT!" she replies. I suffer a slow, internal death until her butt is out of my room, and I can no longer see her god-awful wig and cheap lipstick.  
"Is she mental?" Honey asks, with wide innocent eyes and disbelief painted across her face, looking as if she's been caught in the act, which she technically was. "Is that illegal? Somehow, that's got to be illegal."  
"I wish it were," I say.


End file.
